


if this is what we've got, then what we've got is gold

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Bad Flirting, Domestic Fluff, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Good Flirting, Idiots in Love, M/M, Nice English Countryside, Pining, Post-Civil War, Romance, Slow Burn (ish), Steve's puppy-dog eyes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-06 12:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18388139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “I hate this.”“Don’t worry, cryofreeze, I hate you too.”-It was Steve’s idea. “We shouldn’t stay together”, he said. “We're too big of a target all together” and “we could be safer”.Sadly, Steve's idea was terrible, and it involved spending an unspecified amount of time with the steering wheel thief in a decrepit cottage inEnglandof all places.England. In acottage. WithBarnes.Who he didn't like. Not at all.Right?





	1. all the best laid plans fall apart in your hands

“I hate this.”

“Don’t worry, cryofreeze, I hate you too.”

-

It was Steve’s idea. “We shouldn’t stay together”, he said. “It’s too big a target” and “we could be safer”.

Normally, Sam would have agreed with him. It makes more sense to keep your team apart when you are all in danger of being captured by the government. Less chance of everyone getting caught. This, however, was unacceptable.

“No, Steve, please, you can’t make me go with him. That is cruelty. I thought you were above this.”

Steve did look above this. He was making a very pained face. That didn’t matter, though, because he was refusing to budge on his plan.

“Sam, please. I trust you with him.”

All-star American hero was pulling out the puppy dog eyes. There was definitely times Sam regretted following Steve. Maybe he could be at home right now, sleeping or something, if he had never joined up with Cap. Maybe… but he shouldn’t complain. Steve had said since the start that he could leave whenever he wanted, he just… didn’t want to. This was his life now, shitty brainwashed assassins and all.

 _God dammit_.

“Fine. But I am not making friends, Steve, so don’t even try.”

-

The drive was damn quiet. Clint and Scott had already been dropped of with their respective families; probably not the safest maneuverer, but they’d already been apart for too long. They had kids to look after. Steve had told them, after one of his ‘brooding-in-the-dark-on-phone-calls’ sessions that Nat was organising some extra housing for them. An extra layer of protection. Sam was glad she was still on their side about things.

Steve was driving and frowning, seemingly taking the same amount of effort for each task. They’d already been on a borrowed Wakandan jet for over 15 hours, and it was exhausting. Steve and Wanda had even further to go after this; back on the jet and to some unspecified location.

Wanda was in the back seat along with Sam; she was looking anxious again. The girl had been jumpy since they had been retrieved from the prison and wasn’t looking any more comfortable now. Sam was almost glad that she was going with Steve; he would know how to deal with this. He knew how to deal with lots of things. Steve was just… good at looking after people.

Of course, that meant he was stuck with Barnes of all people. _Barnes_. Who stole his steering wheel and threw him off a helicarrier and hadn’t apologised for either. In _England_. With _Barnes_.

He sighed in despair for what his life had become.

-

The ‘cottage’ (as Steve called it) was small. Small, surrounded by muddy fields, and with no other buildings anywhere in view. If it wasn’t so crumbly, muddy, and if he didn’t have to share it with cryofreeze, Sam may have called it nice. Sam and Barnes would be left with the car (which they had picked up at a rental in the nearest city, to give them some form of transportation) while the jet returned to take Wanda and Steve away.

He spent a few minutes trying to get Steve to take Barnes with him (“Please take him”) and failing (“No”) before resigning himself to an uncertain amount of time with the steering wheel thief. He’d better not take the steering wheel from the rental. Sam would need it when he had had enough of Barnes. No car, no escape.

Steve was repeating the safety information for the ninetieth time (“Don’t go out unless you need to”) while trying to get far, far away from the animosity between his friends. Sam was pretty sure that Steve was going to be glad to be away for a while. He really didn’t like it when he argued with cryofreeze. He’d originally thought he would try harder to be friendly, but…

Steering wheel thief.

Hadn’t even apologised.

-

The cottage was decent inside. It was surprisingly open and modern, and probably had had a renovation at some time recently. The cupboards in the kitchen were almost overflowing with flour and sugar and cereal and packets of ‘crisps’. Nothing else, though. He would ask the crew on the ship if they had any spare food when they landed so he didn’t have to try and find a shop nearby. Oh, damn, he’d have to drive on the weird side of the road.

England. With _Barnes_.

Cryofreeze himself had been quiet. He’d entered the cottage and sat on a couch, stared at the wall while Steve did his frowny-face-puppy-eyes look, and generally not been much of a presence. Sam very much hoped that he would stay like that.

On the other hand, he looked a bit… lost. And a bit sad. And a bit lonely. But Sam didn’t feel bad for him. Nope, not at all. He stole his steering wheel. And didn’t apologise.

He did _not_ feel bad.

Sam only let Barnes have first choice of room because Steve would have frowned at him otherwise. That was the only reason. He hoped that Barnes didn’t leave that room until they got to leave this damn place.

Steve and Wanda left. They were only there for around two hours, but it felt like longer. Time felt stretched when you didn’t have any goals, or anywhere to go. This was going to be a long, long unspecified amount of time.

He was bored of it already. But… at least he had helped Steve. He had done all he could. Steve might have spent the past few weeks with his frowny-grumpy-old-man face on, but he would look at Barnes and he would look… lighter. Less pulled down by the weight of the world than he had been when Sam had first met him. Cryofreeze definitely had something to do with that. Even though he stole his steering wheel. Sam was aware that there were worse people to spend time around.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to deal with this for long. He could deal with it for now. Anyway, he had a nice cottage to be in. The sun was setting, and a cool breeze was blowing on the porch. It would be quite a good time to rest, actually. After the past few months had been so stressful, he could really go for something relaxing. He could enjoy himself (If he ignored cryofreeze).

Sam took a deep breath and went to get a drink and a packet of ‘crisps’ to start his new, relaxing _holiday_ experience. He immediately regretted thinking everything was good.

“CRYOFREEZE, WHERE the HELL did you put the CRISPS?”


	2. i want to know what love is, but it seems to come with so much pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam isn't getting lonely, no. It's not his problem that Barnes hasn't spoken to him in weeks. It's not his problem. He'd not lonely. He's only asking Barnes to join him for a movie so Steve doesn't do his sad puppy-dog face again. That's definitely the only reason.

In three weeks, he thought they’d had around four conversations. It was infuriating; Sam had been wishing for so long to just forget about Barnes, but now that he was given a chance to, he just wanted to have a conversation. The cottage was so mind-numbingly boring; there was nothing to do but watch crappy daytime television and wallow in loneliness despite having someone so close. He needed to do something about it before he imploded.

In the end he decided to just get it over and done with, heading straight to the door of the larger bedroom and smacking it a few times, letting out some of his pent-up frustration. There was no response from inside, but that was what he had been expecting.

“Hey, Cryofreeze. Get your ass in gear; we’re watching a movie. Now.” Deciding to leave Barnes to deal in his own time, Sam retreated to the main room of the cottage and turned on the television. He’d already watched most of the movies he’d wanted to see on Netflix but queued one up he’d seen already anyway. It wasn’t the most dramatic or action-filled, and probably wouldn’t infuriate Barnes too much.

“Hey, Vanilla Ice. Movie’s ready. Now.”

There was no response from Cryofreeze apart from a few muttered syllables that Sam couldn’t quite decode. It was the most he had heard from his housemate in a solid week; he honestly did not know what Bucky spent his time doing, or when he ate, or if he ever went to the bathroom.

In fact, he didn’t want to know the answer to those questions.

“CRYOFREEZE.”

A muffled sigh carried through the air, joined by a creaking of a door hinge. The beast awakens. Bucky’s feet were almost silent on the hard flooring; probably a perk of the whole ex-assassin-murderer thing he had going on. Cryofreeze looked about as thrilled to be in the room as Sam was to be in _England_.

“Why.” At last, the silent lump spoke.

“Because you have to. Be sociable. Stop boring me to death with your non-existent company, Cryofreeze.” Sam made the assumption that Barnes was on about having to watch the film, and not some other random metaphorical super-soldier crap. He could _not_ be bothered to deal with that at this precise moment in time.

Barnes let out a small huff but sat stiffly on one of the free armchairs anyway. Sam himself was appropriating the sofa; he had practically lived on it with the amount of telly he had been watching lately and was _not_ going to move. As he settled in a more comfortable position, Sam pressed play on the movie.

Twenty minutes later, he turned it off again. Wow, that was so much worse than he remembered. He was surprised he hadn’t fallen asleep in the first two minutes, and even more surprised to find Barnes still awake as well. Maybe he didn’t feel comfortable enough to sleep on a firm chair in some random cottage in the ass-end of _England_. When the man made a move to leave, however, Sam waved a hand out to stop him.

“No, Cryofreeze. You need to be _social_. Not twenty minutes of film. I’ll pick something else. If you leave, I’ll call Steve, and I _know_ you don’t want to deal with his disappointed puppy-face at this time of day. Night. Whatever it is.”

Barnes frowned and shifted in his seat but leant back against the rest and didn’t make another move to stand. Sam took the easy surrender as a success and started browsing the different shows and movies on the crappy British channels. He flicked through rather aimlessly, trying to find something that didn’t look horrendous.

“Don’t call me that.”

Barnes’ deep voice cut Sam straight out of his reverie. It was the longest sentence he had said since they had arrived; a wonderful four words long. Still, the content confused him.

“Call you what?”

“Cryofreeze.” Barnes replied; his voice frosty. “Just don’t.”

Sam started to think of a snappy retort, like he always used to use in conversations with Barnes when they talked to one another but stopped. He reflected on the times he had used the term. Maybe he hadn’t needed to use it, but it hadn’t seemed to do any harm.

“Why not?”

Barnes glanced up at Sam, making eye contact, then looked away just as quickly. His face was still stony and cold, but there was almost a vulnerability in his eyes. It was a different sight to the competitive fire that had always occupied them during arguments. Sam had a sudden realisation that this was a topic _important_ to Barnes; he really didn’t like the nickname. Maybe it didn’t sound as friendly as Sam had originally intended, not as much as a two-sided rivalry.

“Just don’t.”

Barned spoke almost softly. There was a story there, he knew it. There had to be. It was just a nickname, and he had never seemed to take much offence to it before. There was something deeper, buried within Bucky’s mind that he hadn’t brought out when Steve was around. Sam felt he was being trusted with something delicate.

“Okay.” He wouldn’t press on the topic. It was obvious that Barnes didn’t want it.”

“Okay?” The man in question frowned, almost seeming confused with the response. Sam wondered if this was a basic decency that Bucky had not been allowed through all his evil-super-brainwashing. The ability to have his own opinions, to choose that he did not like something. Sam wouldn’t let him struggle with that; Steve would kill him if he let Bucky feel sad. Well, maybe not _kill_ him, but at least do the sad face, which is almost as bad.

“Yeah. Okay. Now shut up and let’s watch some television.” He hoped the abrupt end to the conversation would let Barnes feel more comfortable. Then, maybe, he would get around to watching television socially without interruption.

He clicked a random item rated five stars that he had never heard of before and threw a cushion at Barnes. Just to show him that he was still the winner in their little rivalry. Sam ignored the gentle “Thanks”, and sat back to watch whatever was on the screen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is my first time writing two chapters for one story! I really hope you liked this, and I would absolutely love any comments or kudos you wish to give. They make my entire day. I'll have a new chapter out soon!  
> By the way, the film they watched the start of was Mission Impossible; Rogue Nation. I loved that film the first time I watched it, but found it extremely boring the second, which is rare as I usually rewatch things I love a good 4 or 5 times without any issues. You'll find out what the show is at some point, I promise.


	3. you can stand there waiting for a rainy day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam had definitely not been Barnes-watching. Not at all. He was just interested to see how the man was getting on after their conversation. That was all. Right?

After their adventures with British television, Sam had not spoken to Barnes for a couple of days. Luckily, the man was out of his room more. He seemed to be spending more of his time on one of the chairs in front of the television; even if there was nothing on the screen. Sam had taken to leaving it running, even when he was not currently watching anything. It was quite disturbing to see Barnes sitting, staring at nothing, making no noise.

Despite the lack of communication, there was far less awkwardness in the air. It seemed that one of Barnes’ main reasons for sitting alone in his room must have been the tension in the air. Even though it was still a little frosty, the layers of uncertain tension were definitely lessened.

Barnes-watching had become his favourite hobby. It might have just been the boredom, but Sam wondered if there was something deeper there, something that kept his interest in the other man even after all the attempted murder and framing and general unpleasantness of his company. He dismissed the idea before he could properly analyse it, though. The more he thought about Barnes, the more awkward it felt to be in a room with him. The possibility of knowledge was not enticing enough to sacrifice the friendlier air.

When the other man was not disassociating out of existence, he was like a puzzle to solve. He would flip through the television, finding the most obscure of programs with little trouble and happily sitting and watching absolute garbage for hours. Other times, he would turn on something that he was clearly not paying attention to and move away from the chair. He would stand by the window, staring. Sam didn’t want to know what he was thinking of; he already had spent too much time doing that himself. A certain amount of self-reflection was good, sure, but thinking about ‘if’ and ‘would-haves’ didn’t solve any problems in the long run.

He was extremely glad when Barnes was the one to initiate their next conversation. He’d been trying not the rush him; after the extremely short talk that Sam had pretty much dragged him in to, he wished Barnes to be the one to talk first. Just so it wouldn’t feel awkward. Or like he was the only one trying. Barnes needed to make an effort; he could _not_ be bothered with trying to start a one-sided friendship. It would be far more hassle than it was worth, even if it would make Steve happy in the long run.

Still, the contents of the conversation were certainly not what he had been expecting. Barnes cornered him in the kitchen, standing like a ghost on the tiles. His face said he wanted a conversation, while his posture suggested he wanted to run all the way back to America to avoid talking to Sam.

“Wilson.”

Even though Sam had been standing barely two metres from Barnes, and had been looking directly at him, the softly spoken word still spooked him. Luckily, he managed not to jump even as he had a small heart attack. It probably would have looked unprofessional in front of the Winter Soldier. Barnes was still looking at him, his eyes a strange mix of hard and soft; there was a turmoil of emotions there, but expressed in a frowning, tilted brow and a glare.

“ _Wilson_.”

Sam started that time; he didn’t realise that he had been lost in his thoughts for more than a few milliseconds. This cottage was making him soft, making him weaker. He needed to be out there, doing something. For now, though, he just had to work with what Steve had given him, and not worry about his combat skills. Damn, he really needed to get out more. The country air would probably do him good.

Maybe he could even get Barnes to go on a run with him.

Just as competition, though.

No other reason.

He shook himself out of his thoughts again. Barnes was still watching him carefully; apparently, he hadn’t embarrassed himself too much this time, and still was in a good position to reply before he sounded like he was ignoring Barnes.

“What? What do you want?” Sam almost immediately cursed himself; the words had come out clipped and almost harsh. Not as rough as they could have been, but certainly not a good tone to sound like a supportive friend. Enemy. Whatever. Who knew what grounds they stood on, with all the ridiculously confusing international politics and national politics and avenger-only politics. At least with Steve he had more of a clue what was going on. He was far too out of the loop right now.

Barnes looked almost terrified. Sam was surprised that he hadn’t just ran away already. He was clearly way out of his depth with whatever he was going to talk about.

“On the television.” Barnes paused after his first statement. Sam momentarily thought he was talking about something currently on the screen, but Barnes was steeling himself to speak again. Whatever he was on about was clearly not urgent and was probably a personal matter. At least, more personal. Sam really didn’t want to be looking after all the Superheroes who needed therapy. That was a whole different ballgame to what he was used to.

“The girl made scones.” _Wait, what?_ “On the program we watched after the start of the movie. She made scones.”

Sam certainly recalled. That show had been great. Why Barnes was bringing it up, though, at such an unrelated and pointless time, remained a mystery.

“…and?” What had been said so far was nowhere near enough information for a conversation.

“How?”

_How what?_

“How do you make them?”

_Dammit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another chapter. I wasn't expecting to get one out this soon, but it just kind of happened? This is really starting to flow better in my head now. I am looking forward to writing and posting more, and am going to be very happy when this is over. Multi-chapter is hard.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! As always, I really appreciate any comments and kudos that you give. It is very nice to know you people are out there enjoying what I'm writing!!

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at a multi-chapter piece. Also, my first attempt at a romance story. I'd say that I don't ship much, but there are a few that I definitely enjoy reading, so why not give it a go? I have the rest of the story planned out and have already started writing the rest of it, so I hope you enjoyed this part and will stick around for more! Comments and Kudos are very much appreciated : )


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